


Room 208

by TheCrazyGeek



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/pseuds/TheCrazyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve had a professional working relationship for years, but what happens when you get Malcolm and Sam together in a hotel room…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hard at work

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a prompt received on Tumblr

Conferences. Sam used to love going to these as Malcolm’s PA. Posh hotels, fancy food, famous faces, excuses to get dressed up in the evening..it was all fascinating to her as a young woman.

Years later, not so much. Hardly any time was spent in the lush surroundings of hotel rooms, the food invariably ended up being the kind of portions that wouldn’t feed a hummingbird, famous people behaved just as badly as any others and being dressed up just meant more outfits to buy on a PA’s salary.

The only saving grace was Malcolm himself. He’d be honest about the food (‘there no fucking cows around here? Christ, this feels like vegan under-eaters anonymous’) and make her laugh with his opinions of others.

And he looked amazing in a tux.

Sam shook her head and returned to updating the document Malcolm had sent earlier this evening. He was off in the bar and had asked if she wouldn’t mind getting on top of some of the paperwork while he ‘sorted out’ a few people. She didn’t mind really, she’d seen him in action often enough to almost predict his every word and the MPs he was dealing with this time were really boring.

Still, would have been nice to have a drink with her boss. Get him away from the hordes for an hour and he could be very good company, so long as you didn’t mind the word ‘fuck’ used as punctuation. Sam sighed and returned to typing on her laptop, making sense of Malcolm’s notes in his familiar scrawl.

….

It was gone 11pm when there was a knock at her door.

'Avon calling, I've got some fucking skin cream here that'll wipe 10 years off ye face and £50 off ye bank statements'. Rolling her eyes somewhat at her boss' total inability to care what other people though of him yelling at hotel room doors at night, she stood up and let him in.

Malcolm strode in with two glasses and a bottle of whisky and grinned at her. ‘Bodies buried in the usual place pet, screw that computer and have a drink. Actually don’t fucking screw it, I have enough fun explainin’ to the geeks in IT why Jamie gets through computers, I don’t need you addin’ liquid damage to them’.

'You're in a good mood' Sam said without a shred of sarcasm while accepting one of the glasses.

'Aye, I nearly made a few of those pricks wet themselves tonight so I'm celebrating, and since you're the only person here without the fucking sense tae be scared of me-'

’- I get to have a drink with you without wearing Kevlar body armour. Thank you’.

They settled on the sofa in the room and clinked glasses (‘to there always being enough twats tae keep us employed’) and drank in friendly silence for a while. Sam relished these rare moments when her volatile boss would just let down enough of his guard to relax even slightly.

Malcolm had kicked his shoes off and loosened his tie and was openly smiling at her. ‘And she doesn’t even blink an eye at havin’ her hotel room invaded by a strange man. Unflappable. Fucking love it’

'You're hardly strange' she quipped. 'Rude, yes'

'But nae fear at all. Again, even Jamie fears me'

Sam knocked her foot against his heel. ‘I’m not your pet psycho. I know your birthday, your favourite foods, drinks, films, and favourite forms of retaliation against people who force themselves on women’.

'Ahh true' he drawled, his voice slightly husky from the drinks. 'Did I ever tell ye how I made that twat in the Treasury fucking wet himself in the office?'

She remembered. ‘That twat’ was a young man in the Treasury who had had a reputation for taking out the young women, getting them drunk and then making inappropriate suggestions and threatening their jobs when they refused. Malcolm had heard about it.

It would surprise probably a lot of people to find out that the feared Dark Lord of Westminster had absolutely no tolerance to people preying on woman. None. Sam had asked once why he felt so strongly about the issue only to be fixed by his deathly glare and told to never mention it again else he’d ‘write an essay using your blood and rip out your ovaries for full stops’.

The best PAs knew when to not push for further details.

Malcolm poured himself another glass and patted his hand on her shoulder. ‘I’ll never let any fucker harm ye, that’s my job’ he said wryly, smiled and continued drinking.

An hour or so later and Malcolm had his feet up on the bed and was typing furious text messages in between drinking the scotch and giving Sam a running commentary of the various physical threats he was shooting around while she edited some emails he’d given her to send to ‘the usual fuckheads’ . Her gaze kept drifting away from the screen to where Malcolm’s feet were propped on the bedside and she found herself having to bury a sudden desire to tickle them.

Would Malcolm even be ticklish? She didn’t know, but the whiskies floating around in her bloodstream made her curious enough to risk that exploration. Her hand snaked casually towards his nearest foot and she leant forward and tickled the underside.

“WHAT TE FUCK?!” Malcolm yelled, catapulting himself backwards and dropping his phone. Sam collapsed on the bed laughing fit to burst as he fell off his chair and landed on the carpet. It took a while for her to settle down and breathe normally but when she did, she found Malcolm sat on the bed next to her smiling as her mirth.

“It’s been far too long since I heard any genuine laughter. Real fucking hysterical fits of the giggles stuff. Bloody fake smiles with those twats at the bar.” Sam smiled at him and replied that he was welcome.

“But”, he interrupted her. “tickle me again and I’ll do it back, even fucking harder.” As threats go, it wasn’t one of his best, but he carried on. “I’ll hold ye down and tickle your ribs until ye fuckin’ beg me tae stop”

He didn’t expect her pupils to suddenly dilate at that image, nor for her sudden intake of breath.

'….you fuckin' like that idea?' Malcolm surprised himself with how husky his voice had just got. Maybe he was getting too old to be necking the Talisker like it was water. He was definitely too old for what his body was starting to do at the sight of a young, panting woman with lust in her eyes.

Oh, fuck.

His consternation grew as she laid her laptop on the bedside table and stretched out with an impish grin and said ‘go on then, tickle me. Lets see if the great Malcolm Tucker can inspire mirth as well as he does terror’.

Her legs slid against each other with the rough sound of sheer denier rubbing (Malcolm prayed to the dark gods that they weren’t stockings else he was in serious trouble of losing all control) and stretched her arms out, her hands gently brushing the swell of her breasts on the way past. Normally reserved and sedate; Sam was enjoying having her fearsome boss hanging on her every word and movement, and yes, she could probably blame the alcohol for some of it. He was transfixed for a moment on her hands gripping the sheets and releasing them, teasing him. Fucking minx.

Fuck it. Malcolm moved with lightning speed until he was poised above her – hands either side of her shoulders and legs straddling her thighs. No part of him was actually touching her but he’d swear later he could feel heat like the fires of hell itself burning under him.

'Now?' he asked and Sam told him to get on with it. He sat back on his heels and settled down onto her thighs while his hands stretched out to her ribs. With a smile, Malcolm started drifting his fingers lightly across her ribs and then dug them in without warning and manipulated them fast.

Sam laughed and writhed under him, her reaction prompting him to go faster, harder. Soon she was out of breath and almost bucking him off the bed as she twitched and convulsed. Both of them laughing as though the world didn’t matter and it was only them, such a relief to just lay aside the concerns for a minute and have fun like kids.

Although there was nothing juvenile about his body’s reaction to being atop a writhing woman. He shifted slightly to hide the fast growing erection in his trousers and carried on making his PA laugh her arse off.

He stopped at her gasped ‘no more’ and sat back again with a smile of triumph.

'Well, I think I fuckin' won that one'. He moved to the side slightly to begin getting off his willing victim and was stopped by a warm hand circling his wrist.

'Where are you off to?' Sam purred and he looked down at her hand as though it was the first time he'd ever seen it.

'Thought I'd get back on my chair you know. Being sprawled on top of a lovely lass is somethin' best left to fantasies at my age pet'. She waved away that concern and he carried on “also, we have a lot of work if we're to keep those fuckers in line tomorrow.”

Sam didn’t let go of his wrist. “Work can wait for a while”

“What are ye after? More drinkin’? Because if we carry on messing around on the bed it’s going tae get fucking messy in my kecks and all my clean clothes are in my room, no’ yours”

At his words, Sam looked down at the creases of fabric at the front of his tuxedo trousers and caught her breath. Yes. Oh hell. A clear ridge of hardened flesh was pressing against them from the inside.

Malcolm. On top of her. Hard.

He followed her gaze and tried again to move away. “Love, no. No, I’m not going tae fuck ye around by screwing ye senseless in a fucking hotel room and then pretendin’ the next day that nothin’ happened. Press hacks are good for a casual fuck an’ drop but not you. Never you”

Strangely, that assertion comforted Sam. He did want her, after all. By all evidence so far he really wanted her. He just didn’t feel he could do anything about it.

But she could. Taking her courage in both hands she wrapped her arms round his waist and looked into his grey eyes.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first day. If you want to go further I would love nothing more”

“But, fuck I’m your fucking boss!”

She sighed “So we agree to never bring it into work with us, right? Anyway, I wouldn’t want to miss the sound of you taking some posh twit down a few pegs, can’t have the Malcolm Bollocking Train derailed because he’s got his PA up against the wall of the pantry giving her a really good seeing-to..”

He groaned involuntarily at the last image and the bulge in his trousers twitched. “Jesus lass, you’ll be the death of me”

“Then I’m sure I’d collect a lot of bounty money from people who want your head.”

Malcolm quirked up a corner of his mouth at his devious young PA and his inner voice told him to go for it. Just once. They could both deal with the repercussions in the morning.

He lowered himself down onto her and held her head gently between his hands. “Tell me tae stop at any point an’ I will” and their eyes fell shut as his mouth touched hers.

It was tentative, brushing, the feel of a butterfly’s wings against her lips as they softly kissed for the first time. Sam’s arms slid around Malcolm’s back and stroked in circles as he continued his exploration of her mouth. When he took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently she moaned long and pulled him closer.


	2. Off duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whereupon things get porny..

If you’d asked Sam ten minutes ago what she thought Malcolm would be like in bed – the words ‘fierce’, ‘wild’ and ‘passionate’ would have featured in her answer. This, this achingly slow kissing and long fingers roaming across her body, wasn’t at all what she imagined.

Malcolm kissed his way down her jawline and onto her neck, breathing hot against her skin and whispering frankly filthy suggestions of what he’d like to do, and indeed had wanted to do for years. His voice purred in her ear about having her pin him down and ride him like a horse, his tongue stroked down her neck, and when his teeth gently fastened into the crock of her neck at the same time his hands brushed over her breasts – well, that was about all she could take.

“Please!” she grabbed at his shirt, trying to force it off him and he batted her hands away.

“Please, what, love?” Bastard knew damn well, judging by the half-concealed smirk as he rolled one of her nipples between his fingers through her clothes.

Sam practically ground her teeth. “I want you. Naked. In me. Or if that’s not clear enough, just take your fucking clothes off and I’ll show you”

He chuckled and sat up. “You were never this impatient at work, love” but he did start undoing his shirt and allowed her to slide it off his shoulders once done. “What can I say” she replied, slowly rasping her tongue across his chest, “you are a bad influence Mr Tucker”.

“And you, Ms Cassidy” Malcolm answered as his hands snaked around her back and undid her bra with the deftness of years of experience, “are a very fast learner”.

With that, the conversation stopped and articles of clothing started coming off. Malcolm practically sighed with relief when the annoying trappings of his formal wear were dumped on the floor, but he did moan in appreciation when the majority of Sam’s clothing joined his on the carpet.

Then it was skin-on-skin contact. Two overheated bodies wrapped around each other on the bed, kissing like horny teenagers while hands explored and legs circled waists. Rolling him over, Sam ended up on top of Malcolm, straddling his waist and grinding herself down onto him – his hands grasping her breasts as she moved back and forth.

“Fuck, stop for a sec” he panted and Sam froze. Crap. Had she done something wrong? Okay, aside from ending up naked on top of her boss.

Seeing her consternation, Malcolm patted her thigh in reassurance. “Oh no, nothing wrong love. Just thought I’d get somethin’ wrapped up first yeah? Don’t want little fucking Malcolms runnin’ around the place..”

Leaning (awkwardly) off the bed; Sam grabbed her handbag and dragged it up, fishing around inside until she found what she was after.

“Ahh smart lass” he said as she passed over the foil-wrapped packet. “I’ve usually got one in the inside pocket of my jacket but that’s over there…under your knickers I think”. “Expect this a lot?” she enquired, sitting back so he could roll the length of lubricated latex over his erection. “What? Bein’ in bed with a fucking hot woman who wants tae jump my bones over an’ over again? All the fuckin’ time”

Sam slid back forward over his hard length and he grasped her waist in strong hands. “Take me” was all he said before she lifted herself up and sank down slowly; taking his full length deep inside her.

Thick, curved, he hit all the right spots inside her. Sam almost didn’t want to move, just to savour the feeling of being so wonderfully full. But then his hips flexed – pushing himself further inside her - and she started to move as well.

Their bodies ground against each other as she moved up and down, revelling in the sight of Malcolm panting under her, his eyes flickering closed as his breathing sped up and his jaw clenched. For a moment Sam thought he was going to come and then those grey eyes opened again and one of his hands moved down from her waist.

The fingers she’d seen at work threatening to strangle MPs fluttered between her legs teasingly for a second and then settled either side of her clit and started a firm circular motion. She may have called out to several deities at that point. Her last coherent thought was fuck, he really knows what he’s doing before her mind was consumed with chasing the sensations building up inside her. Malcolm thrust upwards even harder, bending his knees to get better leverage and suddenly she felt a deep tremor start between her legs.

Panting heavily she leaned forward and kissed Malcolm firmly on the lips as her orgasm built up inside her, small muffled cries coming from her throat, increasing in pitch when finally she tipped over the edge and came violently.

The rhythmic clenching of her internal muscles as she came was more than Malcolm could stand. Pushing into her faster, even as she came down from her peak, he gritted his teeth and came.

….

It was 1am and they were still undressed on the bed, curled up around each other.

“Do ye want that to happen again or was this a one-off?” Malcolm asked with uncharacteristic soft tones.

Sam didn’t even need to think about her answer. “Yes, yes I would”


End file.
